I Remember a Shadow
by rokubi-raijuu
Summary: For his misdeeds on earth, Loki is banished from Asgard. He is cast back down to earth as a human, but this time with no memories of who he was or what he did. An amnesiac Loki struggles with his identity, and all Thor wanted was for his brother to join him again on Asgard. He's not going to give up on Loki so easily. Thorki; slightly AU; rated M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**so this is an idea I got from a photoset on tumblr, which I can't actually find at the moment cause I saw it a while ago. D: the fic and progression of ideas is my own, but I think I have to at least partially credit the artist who came up with the starting idea of an amnesiac Loki on earth.**

**and yes, it's slightly AU – I decided Victorian era earth would be more fun than modern day. xD**

**at any rate, R&R. c: I might see how people like the concept before I decide whether to continue it or not. |D**

* * *

Blond hair, blue eyes. That's what he remembered. Blond hair and blue eyes on a remarkably muscular figure who didn't look anything like the men he saw around his streets. He would remember someone like that if he'd seen them, someone so rugged with that kind of fire in his eyes. The mane of his hair would ripple in the touchless wind, giving him the distinct appearance of a lion leading his pride with that sure and confident step along paths Loki didn't recognize.

Recently, the dreams had gotten even stranger. Past the man who was always there, he would see a brilliant landscape of gold and ivory, cascading over mountain peaks and valleys, a city so close to the sky that he was sure the tips of those towering spires must have grazed the clouds.

Loki preferred to keep these dreams to himself. They were harmless, after all, and there was a certain kind of magic to the fact that they kept reappearing, almost every night, like a fairy tale he could slip into to escape from the drone of real life. He wasn't really part of it, of course – this world was completely different, and anyway was only a figment of his imagination.

Even so, he realized that there could be something else to this. Grandmother always said so, but was he really an Ashmore? He had never questioned it, simply because everyone else was so convinced of it, but somehow at night, in those dreams, he couldn't help but feel like there was a reason for this reoccurring setting.

It was completely foolish, he knew, and he needed to do as his father said and get his head out of the clouds. The dreams were interesting, yes, but they were nothing more than dreams.

A sigh escaping his lips, Loki shrugged the suit jacket over his shoulders and turned to check the tailoring in the elaborate mirror that rested against the wall in the corner of his room. Reaching up, he allowed his hands to glide over the softened fabric before he fastened the tie around his neck, adjusting it so that it rested neatly in the opening of his jacket.

He tilted his head down and ran a hand through his jet black hair absentmindedly, not noticing the way his fingers immediately traced a certain path through the locks as if by some muscle memory that he didn't know until they had finished. Loki paused, frowned in slight confusion, and slowly did it again, paying attention to the way his muscles tensed in a certain way. He got the distinct feeling he was to put something on his head at this point. Something that was heavy, judging by the way his arms flexed a bit as if bearing a weight.

He let his arms fall and sighed. More memories of a past he didn't remember. Sometimes, if he focused hard enough, his body's muscle memory would recall things his mind didn't know, and he would feel that he should be doing something – grabbing a staff, fanning his hand out behind him as if to keep a cloak from tangling beneath his feet – but he never knew why. He kept these strange sensations from his family; he didn't want them to feel worse than they already did that he didn't remember anything.

"Loki?" The sudden voice at his doorway made him start, and he turned to see Viola, his younger sister, enter his room and twirl in her newly purchased dress. It was a lovely dark green flowery thing that billowed out when she moved, telling of spring and contentment when it echoed with her bright laughter. "What do you think? Does it look good?"

A gentle smile settled on his face and he strode towards her. "Magnificent. The trim suits you just right."

"Grandmother says it makes me look too old for my age," Viola pouted, crossing her arms and swaying from side to side, knowing her elder brother would compliment her.

Loki was not one to disappoint. He chuckled and shifted the bow in her hair affectionately. "And what is wrong with that? You look like a pretty young lady."

He straightened up and turned back to the mirror to continue fixing his hair, which had at last begun drying out from his earlier shower. The ball tonight was a stunningly large event, hosted by the duke himself in celebration of his new marriage. The entire area's noble families were invited, and no one dared to decline such an illustrious offer. Loki had been spending the last week preparing for it with his family, tailoring suits, buying dresses, and the like. There was an exhausting amount of work that went into it all. His sisters were understandably thrilled about it, especially Eliza, who was looking forward to meeting dashing young men at the ball from across the countryside.

As for Loki, he didn't consider himself much of a party-goer. He would really have rather remained home by himself with the books in their family library if it had been up to him, but he knew better than to think about saying that he wouldn't go. His absence would draw a lot of unwanted attention to the family, and people would gossip and speculate. He didn't wish that kind of negative press on his father and especially his aging grandmother.

But the promise of socialization wasn't the only reason he wasn't overly eager. Ever since he'd woken nearly a year ago now, his father and grandmother had been pressing for him to find a woman to marry, and not subtly either. It was improper, they insisted, that he had not found a suitable wife at his age yet. Now that he was regaining his bearings with society, he needed to move out again soon and live his own life out from under the family roof. They had done him service by letting him stay with them for this long because he had lost his memory, but people were beginning to talk. And one of the main discussion topics was his celibacy. Loki was not looking forward to his family's hints at the ball tonight about which women he should dance with, or which looked pretty.

But he would go.

"Brother," Viola's voice brought him back to the present again, and he turned to see her gazing curiously at a couple crude sketches he had scattered about his desk. She was looking particularly at the one he had done early this morning after having woken up before dawn and being unable to go back to sleep. All his drawings were of the same thing – or rather, the same person. "I haven't seen this one before. Is it new?" she asked, lifting up his rough etching, and Loki stepped up to look over her shoulder.

"I could not sleep last night," he admitted. "Sketching calms me."

"It's the man again," she noted with that child-like innocence only a ten year old could manage. "You always draw the same man." She glanced up at him with wide green eyes that looked very much like his own. "Who is he?"

Who was he? It was a very good question, one that Loki was not sure he could rightfully answer. He didn't know the stranger's name, or anything else about him. Months of dreams about him, and he'd never interacted with the man before, or heard his name spoken, or seen what his life was like. His dreams were always piecemeal and hard to decipher, and all Loki could put together from them was the spiraling towers, some far-flung visions of banquets, and a rainbow bridge that dazzled with its lights. "He's a man that I dream about sometimes," he answered, placing his arm around Viola's shoulders. "A man I almost remember."

"Viola," their grandmother's aged but stern voice interrupted whatever the girl was about to say next, and the child scampered away from her brother, beaming up at the old woman. "Now stop troubling your brother; why don't you go and read a book until we leave, darling?"

"All right, grandma!" Viola chirruped brightly, and dashed out of the room, leaving the woman to turn back to Loki as he adjusted his tie for the fifth time.

"You look very dashing, Loki," she murmured approvingly. "I'm glad you've agreed to attend the ball tonight."

He glanced at her over his shoulder and replied with a small smile, before turning back to the mirror. At this point he wasn't doing anything but standing there, though the faraway stare in his eyes seemed to indicate that he was distracted. "Grandmother," he began uncertainly. "Could you tell me what happened again?"

"But you know how it went. I've told you a dozen times now," she answered concernedly. "Have you been having those dreams again?"

"They haven't gone away yet," Loki sighed.

There was a moment's pause, and then the old woman eased herself into a luxurious chair beside the bed, looking up sadly at her grandson. Unable to hold that kind of look, Loki glanced to the side, feeling guilty for not being able to remember anything. He knew that his grandmother's greatest regret about his amnesia was his inability to recall a single thing about his mother, who had supposedly died a few months before the incident. From the pictures and stories he'd seen and heard though, Loki had deduced that she must have been an angelic woman whose untimely death had been an unjust stroke of fate at work.

"You were a very successful businessman," she began, "the manager of an enormous industrial company, which… you don't remember, I assume?" His silence affirmed her assumption. "We hadn't heard from you for a couple of months, and we thought you were doing fine. One morning, the police came to our door, bearing you. You were unconscious, still in your business attire, and it was your father who answered the door. They told us that you had been attacked by thieves on your way home, who had knocked you unconscious. Luckily you didn't have any injuries that required a doctor, but when you woke up…"

Loki didn't need her to continue. He remembered the rest. He had woken up on what he considered to be a foreign bed, with foreign people around him, and he had panicked. When at last they had told him who they were, and who he was, he had calmed. Everything added up after that – he had received calls and mail from people who had apparently been his old coworkers, but he couldn't remember a single one of them.

The dreams of the stranger had started that night.

"Soon, you will be able to put your life back together, Loki," his grandmother assured him. "I am convinced that you can."

He looked up from the carpeting on the floor to meet her steady gaze. For a moment, he held that look, as if searching for more answers, and then nodded.

* * *

It had been months since Loki's banishment, and Thor was still angry over the Allfather's choice. He had successfully brought his brother back home after having been separated for almost a year, and he hardly got two days with him before they were ripped apart again! How was Loki ever supposed to feel like he truly belonged in Asgard, regardless of his blood or heritage, if he was cast out again and again? Didn't anyone understand that Loki was still his brother – had always been his brother – and nothing would change that? He had merely wanted Loki to come back, had wanted him to realize that Asgard would always be where he belonged.

And not only had father cast him out, but in addition he had robbed him of all memory of his previous life and deeds, and stripped him of his power as a god as well. Thor recalled his own banishment as a human on earth and how helpless he had felt, but at least he had still remembered who he was.

The thought of his brother wandering aimlessly on earth with no one to turn to, recalling nothing of growing up in the palace, tore Thor apart with a pain more crippling than any battle wound. All the times they had spent together as boys, all the wars they had won standing side by side, all the jests they shared – all forgotten.

Nearly every day, Thor had gone to Heimdall to ask how his brother was doing. The answer was always the same: Loki had situated himself in a different life on earth with the human family Odin had crafted for him. He remembered nothing of Asgard or of Thor.

"Thor, you must move on," Sif sighed wearily. She and the warriors three were gathered in the otherwise empty hall, watching him with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation. "Loki cannot return to Asgard. There is nothing you can do."

"It's been months," Volstagg added with a hopeless shrug as he tore another chunk from a roasted lamb leg.

"There is life beyond… your brother," Sif continued, unmoved by the disapproving glance Thor sent her way at the hesitation of addressing Loki as his brother. He knew that of the four of them, Sif had always been the most antagonistic towards his brother after the events on earth. He knew she was secretly glad that Loki was gone, and though he could not blame her, he merely wished she could understand that his brother was not a bad person. Thor believed Loki still had a place on Asgard, even if his brother did not necessarily believe so himself. "You will become king soon," she tried to console him. "You must move on."

"He is my brother," Thor emphasized again, standing from the ledge where he had been resting for the last several minutes. Turning, he faced the four warriors before him. "I do not find it so easy as you to abandon one of my family. He does not belong on earth. His place is here, on Asgard. Have all of you so easily forgotten him?"

"Odin does not wish for him to return," Hogan interjected, his speech soft but firm.

"He's banished," Fandral agreed. "What do you wish to do, defy your father again? You remember what happened last time."

As if on cue, a messenger appeared in the hall, saluting to Thor before speaking. "Sir, the repair on the Bifrost is complete."

Since Thor had destroyed the passageway to earth, movement between Asgard and earth had been nigh impossible, which was the only reason Thor had not yet descended to earth to find his brother. It had taken all these months of sorcerers and soldiers working nonstop on its repair to fix it again, but at last it was available for use again. Thor paused long enough for Sif to stand and step towards him. "No, Thor. You can't -"

"Whether or not any of you love Loki," Thor cut her off as he started towards the door, "I will not merely stand and watch as he forgets all of his past." The door shut as he exited, leaving the warriors where they were, looking at one another helplessly.

* * *

**so yeah I usually don't write AU fics cause I'm terrible at them. xD **

**but let me know what you think and if I should continue the idea. ^^ thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**hello again everybody. c: i know, this is rather belated, but literally right after i posted that first chapter, i headed off to south america for two weeks and then have been hemming and hawing since because i am terrible at motivating myself to write. |D**

**but here you go! the second installment! (finally)  
as always, R&R if you'd like ~**

**in which thor is a bit of a creeper. **

* * *

It wasn't until the dust had cleared from his landing that Thor realized the true extent of the Allfather's trickery. This was nothing like the Midgard he recalled, at least not in recent memory. It was strange, and very, very wrong. That was the first impression he had as he stepped forward, turning his head to survey the surroundings. This city, wherever it was, was not filled with the tall buildings of steel and iron he recalled from his last visit to this realm. They looked much older. The roads beneath his feet were not paved with the hardened black tar either, and no matter how long he looked, he couldn't see any of those metal carriers Midgardians called cars. Instead, horse drawn carriages criss-crossed the cobblestone streets alongside people walking, ducking around the animals to avoid being trampled by their hooves. For a moment he thought that this must just be some other part of earth he had not visited, but knew that this was not the case. This Midgard, he had been to before. But it had been many, many years ago.

Why would the Allfather construct a vision of the past for his brother? He knew from Heimdall that this was a falsified town, an image conjured up to make it seem to Loki like he had always lived here, complete with people who seemed to remember him and events that added up. The thought that Odin would seek to deceive Loki in such a manner and give him a home when it was not where he truly belonged made the Thunderer's blood boil. His resolve to find his brother and do whatever it took to bring his memories and powers back surged through him – he did not care what Lady Sif and the others said. Loki may have done terrible things, but he was still his brother. He could not toss aside the memories of their time growing up together so easily as Loki had; he still believed there was a chance.

The strange looks he got as he moved through the streets confused Thor at first, until he realized that his attire was perhaps a little odd for the Midgardians. Having spent most of his time on Earth with similarly extraordinary individuals, he had forgotten that to most of the populace his dress was abnormal. Though Thor had assumed the simpler set of armor he had worn when aboard the Avengers' helicarrier what seemed like so long ago, in a town of humans in frilled dresses and suits or drab-colored clothing he still stood out like a bilgesnipe in a field of flowers.

Never mind that. He had to find his brother before Loki became too deeply attached to his false life here on Earth and had no chance of returning.

Thor knew from experience that if he had no leads, the best place to find them was where people gathered and socialized. Even if everyone in this town had been created with fabricated memories of Loki, there was bound to be someone who knew him, or knew where to find him – Thor would begin there. The prince of Asgard strode through the streets until at last he found a run-down looking tavern, clearly well-used and often visited. Its tired beams were chipped of their once bright paint; evening had begun to descend on this town and bathed the battered woodwork in the fiery hues of twilight. Soon it would be night, when the most people tended to frequent these places to relax after a day of work. As he stood on the side of the street, gazing up at the tattered sign of the tavern, he caught a snippet of conversation behind him.

"- Going to the ball that the Duke Malleborn is holding?"  
"They are! And I heard they're even bringing their son. You know, the one who lost his memory?"

_Loki._

Thor blinked and turned around, eyes scanning the crowd until he saw the two women in their enormous dresses and equally ornate hats passing in front of him, their voices high and conversation casual, without a care in the world as to who might hear them. For him, it was lucky. Abandoning his plan to find information in the tavern, he tailed behind the women at a distance where he could still pick up their words but would not appear as if he was following them. Years of hunting instinct came to use as he did his best to seem like a passerby simply going the same direction.

"How unfortunate. The poor man must be so uncomfortable. Can you imagine? At a party like that without a single familiar face?"

"I hope things come together for him. Such a promising one before the tragedy."

So Loki was attending a gathering hosted by royalty. That was all Thor needed to know. He would not have problems finding the duke's dwellings – if he was as all royalty were, his home would stand out.

* * *

The Thunderer was not disappointed.

He had managed to slip through the gates to the courtyards by blending in as much as he could with the rest of the entering crowd. Though he was hardly dressed for the occasion, there were so many people that the gate guards didn't seem to care who went through.

The guards at the entrances to the house, however, were a different story.

Thor admitted the duke's estate was impressive. The flowers and hedges of the courtyard were trimmed to perfection and emitted the soothing scent of well-groomed petals, without a leaf out of place, likely in preparation for the party. Wooden gazebos were set stylishly out of plain sight, with their white-brushed roofs just peeking out over a cluster of bushes, promising and tempting. The stone pathway through the flora was swept clean of all debris, and likewise the fountain and its statues had been cleansed of dust so that only polished marble remained. Before him, the mansion gleamed like ivory, grand and imposing, its intricately designed balconies hung with wreaths, candles gleaming from every banister as the sun in the sky descended below the horizon, illuminating the grounds with its gentle light. In Asgard, of course, Thor had seen more splendid things, but Midgard did impress him now and then.

"Your invitation, sir?" a guard requested in a nasally voice as Thor approached the front doors.

The god gritted his teeth. "I am only here to find my brother – "

"If you do not have an invitation, you are not permitted inside."

Thor looked up and around, wondering if there was any other way in. He was not like Loki, who probably would have been able to use spells and smooth words to find his way past the guards. All Thor had was strength, and he did not want to harm these men and cause more commotion than necessary. It was not his intention to disrupt the festivities – he merely wanted to locate Loki and speak with him. Seeing his eyes wander, however, the guard stepped forward. "If you are insistent upon entering, I am afraid I will have to have you forcibly removed, sir. Please leave now."

Sapphire eyes narrowed slightly in frustration, Thor held the guard's unwavering gaze for a moment or two longer. Undaunted, the man did not seem fazed by his stature or armor, which Thor had to admit was to his credit. He assumed it was not every day that a god walked through this town in battle dress. The idea to summon Mjolnir in full armor and intimidate his way in occurred to him, but he had a feeling that would cause more disturbance than it was worth, so he dismissed it. He would simply have to find another way to see his brother, even if meant waiting outside the gates all night until Loki finally left.

"Very well then," he replied gruffly, and turned, making his way back down the stone paths as the guard reassumed his position at the door. Thor could make out the sounds of conversation and laughter from beyond the brightly lit hallways, blended with the clink of silverware and glasses, and a twinge of nostalgia clenched his gut. Tilting his head up, Thor let out a sigh and peered at the sky so far above. Back home, dinner would be served now as well, and the full banquet hall would sound not unlike the festivities beyond those doors, if but ten times more raucous.

His brother had never much been one for parties and conversation, Thor knew. Even in years long gone by before all of this had happened, Loki had tended to retreat to his own chambers as soon as he finished dinner, only taking visitors when – if – they came. Thor recalled inquiring about it on several occasions, but Loki merely brushed him off, stating that his solitude was much more peaceful than the chaos of clatter and shouting. Thor turned his gaze back to the flowers before him – Loki could not have changed so much since then. He had little doubt his brother was just as uncomfortable here as he would have been on Asgard, perhaps even more so if those women had spoken truthfully and he did not have a single friend in his company. Though Thor knew it was selfish, he almost felt satisfaction at the thought that his brother would be alone on Midgard. _He does not belong here, _was all he could think. _He should not form attachments here. His attachments remain back home. _He felt as though it only justified his purpose to bring Loki back.

The party had only just begun, and he knew there would still be many hours before it was over and he could stand by the gate to find his brother as he departed. In the meantime, Thor decided he would explore the grounds and try to remain unseen by the guards posted at the entrances. There was nothing else he had to do, and if he left, he was not sure he would be able to enter again.

Night settled in at last, and a cool breeze had since taken residence in the town, swirling through the air and rustling among the foliage of the trees and brushes around Thor as he ambled, surprisingly silently, through the courtyards. The extent of this duke's gardens stretched well around the mansion and beyond. There were multiple other, smaller fountains depicting everything from angels to apparently famous deceased humans. As he walked, he found that, as on Asgard, the garden took different designs as they progressed through the estate. One enclosed square featured only different colors of roses, and another was dedicated entirely, according to the words on the golden plague, to the duke's wife.

Further behind the mansion, Thor discovered what seemed to be an extensive maze of hedges taller than even his head, sprawling until it was swallowed by the darkness of the woods beyond the estate, though Thor could see the faint outline of a gate before bushes became trees. Intrigued, he started down the hill and cautiously but excitedly stepped into one of the labyrinth entrances, craning back his head to see that the hedge walls stretched a good few feet higher on either side of him. This must have taken years of painstaking work, and upkeep would be exhausting. His admiration for this duke growing with each step, Thor wove his way through the labyrinth, following the paths and soon becoming quite lost in the tangle of flora. He dimly wondered how anyone who managed this garden could find his or her way back out, and figured they must have a system for keeping track of their location. For a while, Thor wandered through the hedges, left completely to himself with nothing but the sounds of the garden for company. It was soothing – this far from the mansion, he could not hear the flutter of celebration. Normally that was his element, but out here he could appreciate why his brother liked his peace. When he closed his eyes, birdsong filled his ears, along with the whistle of wind through the leaves and the occasional scratching of small animals flitting along the ground.

It wasn't until he had begun to lose track of time that he realized he did not know how long he had been here. Urgency snapped him back to his senses, and he cursed under his breath. If he missed Loki now, it would be exceedingly difficult to find him again. Why had he not thought to ask Heimdall at least what the house his brother lived in looked like before he had left? He had been in a hurry, excitement at being able to see Loki at last clouding his sense. Now he was beginning to regret it.

Turning, Thor attempted to find his way back through the labyrinth, berating himself for having wandered this far in without first thinking of a way to lead himself back out. He turned a corner, and his irritation mounted – all the corridors looked the same. Had he come his way, or had he gone left at the last crossing instead of right? Letting out a huff, Thor paused and contemplated his next move. He could summon Mjolnir and fly out, but he had left his hammer outside the gates, figuring he would not need it and that the sight of a weapon would make the guards even more apprehensive. Calling it now would destroy part of the duke's property, and that seemed like a shame. But he would if he could find his brother no other way.

A few more minutes passed, and Thor growled under his breath in frustration. He extended an arm, preparing to call his hammer to him, when suddenly another voice entered his hearing. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the hedge wall he had his back pressed against, and its startling familiarity shocked him enough to drop his arm.

"I simply do not know what I am doing."

A defeated sounding statement coming from a voice he did not ever recall sounding defeated before. Thor nearly grinned – he could not believe his good luck! Loki had found _him,_ however unexpectedly.

"I am sure opportunities will find you."

A laugh poured from that velvety voice, but it was mirthless. Thor's chest seized at the sound that reminded him so much of his last true conversation with his brother, on the cliff side in this very realm. His brother had laughed just like that then, with the same undertone of bitterness. It seemed he had not changed much. But who was with him? It was a woman, most certainly. Thor turned quietly and knelt down until he could make out the two figures on the other side of the hedge through a gap in the foliage. He could not help the smile parted his lips – it was Loki. Dressed completely differently and looking much healthier than Thor last remembered, but it was doubtlessly his brother.

The woman, he did not recognize. She looked younger than his brother, with long brown hair that fell to the middle of her back. The black veiled lace hat she wore obscured her face from him, but Thor instantly felt a jolt of protectiveness and perhaps jealousy. Had Loki found himself a woman? Why had Heimdall never mentioned this?

"Opportunities? You saw how they treat me in there. Perhaps it is subtle, but do not think I miss the glances they give me, the whispers behind raised hands. If I am lucky, they pity me. More often I am condemned, my presence spoken of as bad luck. To them, I am a monster."

"Loki, do not say such terrible things…"

With a hiss of anger and hurt, Loki turned away and kept walking so that Thor had to shift quietly down the length of the hedge to keep them in sight. His brother's words, though they were not about him or even anything Thor had business getting involved in, still cut deep. Why had the Allfather placed him in these conditions? Thor had only begun to realize who his brother was during their confrontation on the cliff – why would Odin take him from one world of pain into another? Thor had to grit his teeth against the lick of sorrow for his sibling, and his determination set again.

With a couple of leaping steps, the woman caught up to him and latched onto his arm, shaking her head. There looked to be tears in her eyes, and Thor watched as Loki paused midstep and gazed back down at her, the look in his jade irises unreadable and yet it made the Thunderer scowl. "Stop. You will find a way; I know you will. I support you, if no one else does."

There was a moment of tense silence, and then Loki sighed, clearly trying to calm down even though the anger was still in the tightness of his shoulders and the weariness of his voice. "Thank you, Margaret. I am very gra – "

A loud rustle of the bushes to his right cut him off as Thor emerged from the hedges, clawing his way through the tightly-woven branches, leafs and twigs tangled in his golden mane of hair and littering his clothes as he turned to face the two. He could no longer suppress himself anymore – here was his brother, standing just before him, with a woman he didn't know, and they looked to be far too close for his comfort.

Margaret let out a sharp cry of alarm at his appearance and took a step back as Loki moved to stand in front of her, one arm out to shield her as he regarded Thor with wide eyes.

"Loki," Thor breathed, watching his brother with a steady gaze that spoke of many things – relief, suspicion, apology. He had waited for what felt like a lifetime to say his brother's name to his face again. "I have found you at last."

* * *

**That will probably be the last chapter I write as Thor. xD I can't write him properly ever and this story is more Loki-centric anyway, but I hope you enjoyed it!  
I'll try not to let there be such a lag before the next chapter. |D**


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